My Side of the Story
by SoUsay234
Summary: And it's not that I'm going mad. Not really. But I keep thinking about all the stuff we said we would do together and all the things we just never had the time for and it freaks me out.


**My Side of The Story**

Disclaimer: Je propre rien (I wrote it in French, how's that for paying attention in class? ;)  
>(AN: The title comes from the song by JT Hodges, and the idea from a post in Dear Blank Please Blank. Intended as a one-shot but can continue if my brain decides to)

* * *

><p>Dear Fred,<p>

So, people think I'm going crazy.  
>Which, I kind of am, I guess.<br>A little.

Even Mom thinks so. I can tell because she hasn't scolded me once since you died and I have blown up the toilet, dyed my hair green (you know, like we did when we were like two and discovered we had magic and turned the house upside down but started by changing our hair color) and turned all of Ginny's clothes yellow (which, by the way, she didn't yell at me for either.)

And it's not that I'm going mad. Not really. But I keep thinking about all the stuff we said we would do together and all the things we just never had the time for (like having kids and naming them Gred and Forge because those names sounded so damn cool when _we _were kids) and it freaks me out because when I turn around you're still not there no matter how much I wish for it I understand how crazy this all is because it's always been me and you, and now that it's just me it's like I don't know what to do with myself.

So, since practically every person I know thinks I'm a loon I'm seeing this squib psychologist that Hermione recommended and _he _thinks I should write letters to you. It's kind of idiotic since you'll, like, never _ever _get to read this because get this: YOU'RE DEAD. FUCKING DEAD. D-E-A-D. But since Hermione practically begged (seriously, the girl had tears in her eyes when she told me) and for some reason we always had a soft spot for her, I'm here, writing a letter you'll never get to read, visiting this psycho guy once a week and telling him about stuff he'll never understand because he never had a twin and has never lost one.

Anyway, I figured somewhere 'round attempt 27 at writing this that if I was really going to do it; I might as well do it well. And then it got me thinking and I realized you probably don't even know if we won the freaking war. Which we did, by the way. But that's not really important, I mean, it _is_ since we're not under a freaky You-Know-Poo anti-muggle dictatorship but it's kind of not because we wouldn't have really cared either way. You know, if you were here.

But the thing is, that it's been almost two years and there's so much things you've missed that I can't even start to think about them.

Harry and Ginny are practically parents because Lupin and Tonks died too (which you probably do know since you're all, like, well… dead together and you probably have your dead-people-get-togethers) and they left Harry the kid and since their relationship is pretty serious they're together most of the time and Ginny was crying for about a week last year when the kid called her _ma_. It's cute. And the kid (kids?) loves her, so I have no complaints. Like, last week Harry took her to this little village in France for their anniversary and they spent the weekend there even though their knowledge of French combined is, like, four words tops.

Ron finally got his head out of his ass and asked Hermione out (I think it actually happened sometime amongst the chaos of _that _day, but still) and now they're a happy, bickering, you're-the-biggest-moron-but-I-love-you-anyway couple that we all knew they would be once they gave each other the chance.

Percy is cool again. He has a girlfriend he met last month when he went to Scotland for a week for a Congress and they seem pretty happy together. And last night he invited Ron and me to this bar that just opened in downtown London. I think they had to carry me out, though. The killer headache I have now can only be because I'm hung over. And, seriously, why did we never think of coming up with a cure for it when we were young and crazy and _alive_? But what can I say, yesterday was the two year mark of _that _day and even though I'm most definitely not going crazy I still cannot stomach the date.

Bill has a kid. She's cute and looks like Fleur so much it's stunning, he called her Victoire, because he said it was symbolic and shit. I didn't really understand half of the explanation he gave, but still the kid is damn cute and I'm wrapped around her finger, which is kind of embarrassing since she is not even my kid. But Fleur lets me come around like once a week and play with her, so it's all good. WWW has a whole new section dedicated to kids because of her (and Ted, a little), but he likes normal stuff like extendable ears and trick wands. Every once in a while Harry and Bill will have me babysit their kids and it's awesome, Ted loves Victoire and Victoire loves Ted and it makes a damn cute sight when they chase each other around the store. Or rather, Ted pretends to chase Victoire because the kid is still just learning how to walk and he hates it when the "baby" starts to cry if she falls down.

Charlie is still Charlie and he still lives someplace in Romania I can't be bothered to learn the name of and runs around with dragons all day. I don't the dude will ever get married.

WWW is going well. Just last month we opened a new store in Ireland and Angelina is helping me make arrangements to open one in Hogsmeade by the end of the month. She has been awesome. She was the only one to tell me off after you died and I was being an ass to everyone because I couldn't stomach the thought of you being gone. Just gone. It's like, suddenly, you were not there and you were not completing my sentences or telling me that setting up a prank for mom to find during dinner was a good idea and it was just so fucking weird. And she was the one there when I finally broke down and cried and broke stuff and called you an ass and a moron (sorry for that, by the way) and the one who hugged me for hours afterward, until I was ready to move again without having the impulse of breaking stuff (or necks or noses) and made sure I didn't starve myself or do something as equally stupid, like close down WWW or tell Mom I hated her and Dad (or Percy or Ron or Harry or Ginny or anyone who happened to be in my way when I was in one of my moods, really) that he should be the one dead. I'm not really sure where I'd be right now if it weren't for her. It's like she's my fucking guardian angel or something… I think I may kind of love her, just a little. Please don't be mad for that. She is one of the few who lets me remember you like my awesome twin brother who I shared everything with and not like my dead twin brother I shouldn't be thinking about because it makes me crazy.

I think I'm finally getting used to it. You not being here, I mean. At least, I don't wake up and grab my pillow to chuck it at you so you'll wake up every morning. Or make a pause in the middle of my sentences and wait for you to finish them. I actually even played Quidditch with Harry and Ron and Ginny the other day and wasn't expecting you to come out from behind and high five me after I'd made a good shot.

But the point of this, I guess, is to tell you that I loved you. And miss you. And let you know that I'm not going crazy yet … So, yeah…

Have a wonderful day in prankster heaven (hell?) or wherever it is you ended up.  
>Your twin who is definitely not going nuts even though he still misses you everyday,<br>George.


End file.
